Old Chain Pier

Out of town! All the way to Ratho or rat-ho as I couldn’t stop myself humorously referring to it as. There, to the Bridge Inn, a place I went so often in bygone days - it was the respectable and dependable sort place to go and celebrate things like Dad’s 60th. Not that good, then.
We were there to meet with the SK’s old work colleague JD who had motored all the way from Airdrie. Along with Wendy of course, who had been seriously not well but was looking remarkable good. And there we sat and chatted and watched the hail batter down outside. It was certainly a better batter than that covering the SK’s soggy fish. My bangers and mash were fine, thanks.
Much later, twas the next meeting of the WBRA committee along at the Chain Pier. Jees, what a bunch. Bag of frogs comes to mind. Still, L will meticulously write up the minutes. And I will spend some time amending them before forwarding to the wider readership as she notes everything verbatim. Obviously that would be a good read, but maybe it wouldn’t do our reputations much good.